


The Power is Mine

by ibreathethroughwords



Series: A Man With a Beard [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: 69 (Position), Alcohol (not drunk), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Coruscant, Cum Play, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Dom/sub Undertones, Fraternization, Kallus POV, Kallus is a control freak, Kallus wearing a leather jacket, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Paranoid spy doing paranoid spy stuff, Present Tense, Reverse Cowboy (Position), Rimming, Rough Sex, Set sometime in S3, Watching in the mirror, What happens on shore leave stays on shore leave, blowjob, handjob, one-night stand, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 16:10:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibreathethroughwords/pseuds/ibreathethroughwords
Summary: The dark-haired man can't stop raking his eyes up and down Kallus's body.Eager to please, the thought returns again to Kallus's mind.It has been an awfully long time since he's gotten laid.Curious to see if the flirting is intentional, Kallus returns the heavy-lidded looks, raking his eyes up and down Lyste's body. He doesn't look half-bad in civvies, and it's clear that he holds himself to Imperial physical requirements. When his eyes return to Lyste's face, the man's tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip.





	The Power is Mine

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> _I can break your will_  
>  _I can make you kneel_  
>  _I can force you to crawl_  
>  _And to lick my heels_  
>  _Cause the power is mine_
> 
>  
> 
> "The Power Is Mine" -Lords of Acid
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at @[thebestblogeverofalltime](http://thebestblogeverofalltime.tumblr.com) or just my writing blog @[ibreathethroughwords](http://ibreathethroughwords.tumblr.com). 

It's one of those things that probably shouldn't have happened. Officers of all divisions branches of the Armed Forces are frequently shuffled and rotated between planets, called back and forth between sectors for meetings, and the same is true for agents of the divisions of COMPNOR. Grand Admiral Thrawn has been recalled to Coruscant for something to do with Navy High Command, and the _Chimaera_ has taken a number of sector personnel with it. It's a big planet, however, and Kallus doesn't expect to run into many people he knows outside of COMPNOR's offices.

He's been dragged back to Coruscant from Lothal at the Imperial Security Bureau's request: his five year recertifications are due within the next month, and now is as good a time as any to do them. The request had come through from Colonel Yularen while Kallus has been enduring a briefing-turned-art-lecture with some of the _Chimaera's_ command staff. If he grants him a respite from learning more things he doesn't want to know about art, he isn't going to complain. There's some new training they want to put him through as well so the ISB keeps Kallus extremely busy with testing, training, and some debriefing and feedback on his more recent assignments that ends up actually being helpful in ways he's sure they won't enjoy discovering later.

No secret information is looked up and no transmissions are sent. He's been made aware the local rebels know his identity and finds a way to make sure they know he's has to return to Coruscant for two weeks for training and recerts without actually making contact. Fulcrum remains out of contact and Kallus keeps his nose clean on Coruscant where too many eyes are watching him between Thrawn's people, Pryce's people, the ISB, and the friends of the many people he's arrested over his long career.

When he's forced to come back to Coruscant, he usually sticks to a pattern. The first night he finally manages to leave the complex COMPNOR houses its agents in, he goes for a drink in one of the lower levels. Kallus hasn't worn civvies in months, but the tight black trousers, the green shirt, and the black jacket fit him as well as they did when he was twenty-four and finally stopped growing, and with his hair laying as it will instead of slicked back they suit him well. He's done enough undercover work over the years to know how to drop his Imperial bearing and get lost in the crowds. Blending in is what he wants to do now, especially with so many high-ranking officers currently on Coruscant.

The bar itself has changed names, but the barkeep is still the same old duros that's been running the joint since Kallus was a cadet. They greet each other with a nod when Kallus enters, and the duros - Sor Tontel - motions him away from usual booth and to a seat at the bar. A quick glance reveals why: two naval officers have taken it, going by their bearing. Both are in civvies as well, but Kallus he recognizes one of them even out of uniform and with no hat hiding half his face.

Yogar Lyste, also unfortunately stationed on Lothal. He's not had the best of luck with the rebels either, but he hasn't taken up Kallus's _"If you can't beat them, join them"_ approach. No, the young man is still determined to prove himself and overly eager to please at times. It's a dangerous combination that's going to land Lyste in more trouble or another round of embarrassing circumstances like with Princess Leia Organa.

With a shrug, Kallus settles at the bar. He and the duros make amiable conversation: the male is one of his regular contacts in the lower levels, and Kallus tries to stop in and check on all of his contacts on Coruscant each trip, even if he has no investigation currently under way. Maintaining a good relationship with his own network of informants of a variety of races lets him get through his caseload efficiently if something does come up. As a younger ISB agent, he'd been surprised when the older agents had advised this as a means of doing his job and doing it well because it seemed so out of step with the ideals of the New Order: ideals they were meant to be upholding.

He's more than fine with it now.

They talk until Lyste's companion leaves, and then Kallus glances over at the younger man, studies his face. He's clearly upset about something, and the other man's body language had been tense when he'd left. Kallus isn't exactly concerned - Lyste's affairs are his own business - but if the man fails to be discreet it may fall on Kallus, as the only ISB agent in Internal Affairs stationed on Lothal, to have to address the issue. Deciding to check on him, he excuses himself from the conversation with the duros, heads to Lyste's table, and sits.

Lyste doesn't recognize him for a good thirty seconds, but he definitely finds Kallus appealing. The way the younger man wears his thoughts so openly on his face makes him vulnerable and appealing. When he realizes, he blushes slightly and apologizes, but the thought of what Kallus could do with that knowledge has already been planted. It's too late to take that back. 

Kallus smiles charmingly and presses for information, appearing every inch to be the concerned coworker. Lyste seems so distressed, but he doesn't want to pry: is he all right? It's complete nerf shit, of course it is, but now Kallus is especially curious. The dark-haired man can't stop raking his eyes up and down Kallus's body. _Eager to please_ , the thought returns again to Kallus's mind.

It has been an awfully long time since he's gotten laid.

Curious to see if the flirting is intentional, Kallus returns the heavy-lidded looks, raking his eyes up and down Lyste's body. He doesn't look half-bad in civvies, and it's clear that he holds himself to Imperial physical requirements. When his eyes return to Lyste's face, the man's tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. 

What does he have to lose here if he makes an offer or accepts one? Kallus knows perfectly well how to avoid getting busted for fraternization: he's been at it his entire career in ISB, and part of his goal in going out tonight is to get laid. Lyste's posture is all but screaming for a good fucking, and Kallus now is curious what kind of lay he'd be.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Lyste asks, half a drink later. "I have a hotel room nearby."

Kallus raises an eyebrow. "You won't be missed from the barracks?"

"No. I have an understanding with the officer in charge. He's not expecting me back until late."

And as per his usual routine, ISB expects Kallus to be out late tonight. "Very well," he said, and stood. "Lead the way."  
\---

The backs of their hands brush together as they walk where they need to go. Kallus guides Lyste into the turbolift to up two levels with a hand on the small of his back. They trade heated glances and when he can get away with it, Kallus leans forward to whisper dirty promises in Lyste's ear. By the time they arrive at their destination he has Lyste keyed up enough that the man is vibrating with need.

It has barely slid shut when Kallus finds himself pinned to the door and tugged down into a heated kiss. That won't do at all. If he's fucking a coworker, than that coworker is going to have to respect the power structure. It's something that's caused him too much trouble in the past for him not to enforce now. He reaches out and hits the lock button on the door's control panel before deftly swapping their positions. Lyste is pinned face first to the door and Kallus presses bodily behind him, grinds into him from behind with his hands on Lyste's hips. 

" _Kallus!_ " Lyste exclaims, gasping Kallus's name like a swear word. 

"Hush," Kallus says, and nips at the back of Lyste's neck. "Let me take care of you. Show me how good you can be for me and drop your trousers right now. I want to touch your ass."

Lyste lets out a sweet little crooning whimper against the durasteel door, but his hands hasten to complete the work assigned to them. Immediately, Kallus's hands are all over the bare skin, groping, squeezing the flesh until Lyste was pressing back into him, pressing back until he was practically grinding against the agent. 

"Patience," Kallus orders with a chuckle, and slides a hand into the thick, chestnut-colored hair of the shorter man. He gets a grip in it and uses it to guide the other into tilting his neck so he can work it over with teeth and tongue. No evidence will be left behind: Kallus will make sure they use a condom, shower, remove the evidence from the room himself so neither of them catch hell for breaking the policies on fraternization. He's been getting away with this for years, and it's entirely because of his work in the Internal Affairs division that he knows how to do it in the first place.

If any of the rebels ever accuses him of being part of the corruption problem, he'll shrug it off. He is, but none of them would ever be able to guess in which ways. Seeing their faces if they figure it out would be entertaining. How that conversation might go is anybody's guess.

A few minutes of tormenting Lyste's neck are all it takes for Kallus to grow bored with that. His fellow agents are expecting him back late, but he does tend to keep to a schedule with these encounters. Behind Lyste, he sinks to his knees, drags his large hands down the flanks of that smaller, tightly muscled body as he goes, and then puts them on his ass cheeks to spread him wide. The shorter man is a germaphobe who keeps himself fastidiously clean: it's only because of this knowledge that Kallus is willing to do this without chucking the man into the 'fresher first. It's also this knowledge that makes Kallus certain something this "dirty" will drive Lyste absolutely wild with pleasure.

"What are you doing?" Lyste asks, looking down and back at him as though Kallus has lost his kriffing mind. 

Maybe he has, but Kallus is going to eat his ass out all the same. 

Quite imperiously, he arches a single eyebrow at Lyste, and feels the shiver go through him. "Brace your arms against the door and spread your legs a little wider," he orders. Kallus may be the one on his knees here, but he isn't the one with his trousers around his knees, bracing himself against a door because a man told him too. Lyste obeys him immediately and can't suppress a shuddering breath or a small whimper as he does as he's told. 

"Good boy," Kallus breathes, letting his breath ghost right over the lieutenant's entrance. There's a soft, "Oh," above him, so he uses his hands to spread Lyste's cheeks further apart, and flicks the tip of his tongue over the puckered hole. It's such a simple action, but it makes the lieutenant throw his head back and keen quietly. Kallus repeats the motion with his tongue and looks up, watching his reaction. Lyste is panting now, and when the agent flattens his tongue and laves it over the ring of muscle the brunet's head drops to the door to rest against his forearms. A smirk brings the corners of Kallus's lips up. 

Oh yes, Lyste is certainly enjoying this. Spreading him a little wider makes it easier for Kallus to spear his tongue and circle the ring of muscle with it until Lyste whimpers above him. Kallus takes that as his cue to push forward with his tongue, to drive the tip of it inside him, and fuck the younger man with it. Lyste cries out, actually hits the door with his fist, and Kallus can't help the cruel sounding chuckle that escapes him at that. His hands tighten in place the second he feels Lyste attempt to push back against him, and the man swears voraciously when he finds he can't move the way he wants. 

Kallus is pleased with himself. Whatever power Lyste could have thought he had in having an ISB agent on his knees at his backside has been taken from him. He fucks Lyste with his tongue at varied speeds, keeping it irregular, frequently pulling away to lap at him or bite and kiss over the curves of his ass instead. By the time Kallus has decided his jaw has had enough and he is ready to take this to the bed, Lyste is trembling with want and his cock is drooling strings of pre-cum onto the floor. Kallus is fully hard as well, but he's quite a bit older and more experienced than Lyste, and has learned to appreciate the wait, savors the way the fabric presses against the length of him as he pulls back and stands.

"Would you care to take this to the bed, or do you want me to fuck you into the door?" he offers. Either option suits him. "Quite a bit older" doesn't mean his strength and endurance are lacking in the slightest: Kallus is perfectly capable of doing both.

Lyste turns to look at him, already half-wrecked, and shivers at the hunger Kallus isn't bothering to hide. "Bed," he decides quickly, his voice strained.

Kallus doesn't hide his smirk as he turns on his heel and saunters to large bed. He sits on the edge to remove his boots - this pair much shorter and therefore easier to remove than their blasted uniform boots - and gestures with his head for Lyste to join him. "Come here and remove the rest of your clothes," he instructs, and sets about to getting out of his own. He can keep an eye on what Lyste is doing and watch for potential weapons or recording devices on the man as he strips.

The socks go first. Kallus balls them up and stuffs them in his left boot, right on top of his work and personal comlinks. He's off-duty and technically on leave, so he's disabled the location tracking on both for now. It's a personal habit he's had for years, and it drives his superiors mad. Should anybody need something, they'll have to call him: the ISB agents tailing him lost him several levels before he got to the bar and no one found him since. Sloppy, that. He'll have to find them and give them a dressing down when he returns, as is his custom. It's another habit he can't afford to change. The risk of getting caught on Coruscant is far higher than on Lothal.

His leather jacket is next. This is something he'll be stashing in the city, along with a few other valued possessions such as the meteorite from Bahryn, and his bo-rifle. Should he be caught or have to escape, he doesn't want Thrawn to get his hands on them and treat them as some kind of kriffed up personal art collection of Kallus's to study. Kallus drapes it over the only chair in the room. He stands to pull off the t-shirt, and feels Lyste's appreciative eyes on him. "Like what you see?" he asks as he pulls it over his head.

"Very much," Lyste breathes. He's already naked, and watches appreciatively as Kallus tosses the shirt onto the chair. The younger man gestures to his trousers. "Might I help you with that?"

It's been a very long time since he's had anything but his own hand there, and Kallus has been quite terrible at resisting temptation so far tonight. "Be my guest," he says, and allows Lyste to grip him by the front pocket and tug him to stand in front of the bed. Quick fingers have his pants open and down in little time at all, and Kallus doesn't have a chance to step out of them before Lyste's fingers are touching his cock. He braces himself with a hand on Lyste's shoulder to step out of the mess of fabric and kick it behind him anyway before he looks back down to watch.

Lyste treats his cock like it's something to be worshipped - not that Kallus entirely disagrees with that assessment - and handles it with care. It's a much lighter touch than he's used to, and it makes him groan. Both hands are used to explore it and his balls, and no inch of it is spared this careful examination as the younger man takes in all the detailed. 

"I want to suck you off," Lyste finally says, looking up at him at though concerned Kallus is going to refuse him something essential, and _fuck, but that's hot_. "Please, may I?"

It's a near thing, but he stops himself from growling and pinning Lyste to the sheet and fucking him until Lyste is one with the inner core of the mattress. Another idea comes to mind immediately. "I want to fuck you before we leave here," he manages, "but I need to prepare you first. I suggest a compromise."

They end up with Kallus lying on his back, Lyste's ass over his mouth, and a tube of lube and condom next to his head for when he's ready to use them. Lyste is bent over him, that mouth working his cock over with a skill Kallus would never have expected him to possess. Every time Lyste moves to fuck his mouth or choke himself on his cock, the lieutenant's own cock drags over Kallus's chest, smearing him with the other man's pre-cum.

He'd figured Lyste would be inexperienced at this, allowing him to spend more time rimming him, and enjoying the way the man tenses up and wails when Kallus's tongue finds a good spot. Kallus is practically desperate to stretch him now, dying to get his cock in Lyste before he explodes embarrassingly fast in the younger man's mouth. Twice now he's had to reach down and give his balls a good tug to hold himself off because Lyste has figured out with a surprising amount of speed exactly how to take him apart with that tongue. 

When he's not the one who surrenders first, he's utterly stunned. Lyste scrambles off of him, startling him, and pushes Kallus into a sitting position. Across from the bed, at the foot, is a large mirror. Lyste reaches for the condom and rolls it on, grabs the lube and slicks Kallus up with a generous amount, and turns so his back is to the older man's chest. Kallus lines himself up, and places his other hand on Lyste's hip to guide the lieutenant into place. He makes eye contact with Lyste in the mirror and finds he can't look away. Out of uniform, off-duty, pale and dark-haired, Lyste is gorgeous as he sinks onto Kallus's dick. There's no hat pulled low to hide his eyes or his face now and he can see the absolute bliss on the younger man's face as the agent slides home. 

Few of his lovers can take all of him initially, but Lyste manages it even if it leaves him trembling and panting. He has to rest back against Kallus, but the agent helps him to relax with kisses across his shoulder blades, and stroking his hands over Lyste's chest until the supply officer signals he's ready to move again. Kallus moves his hands to his hips then. It gives him a better grip, and lets him have more control over how Lyste moves on him. 

Right now it's a good, slow fuck. Lyste brings himself almost all the way off of Kallus and sinks all the way down to the base, and spends a minute grinding down on it with his muscles clamped tight around Kallus before doing all of it again, and again. Kallus practically sees starlines the first time, and sits back to let Lyste work. For a while Kallus is content to allow this, but the moment he sees a hint on Lyste's face that the younger man believes himself to be in control, Kallus smirks, and takes it from him. 

He's a lot stronger than Lyste is, and it's nothing to him to pull Lyste completely down onto his cock, hard and fast, and keep him there. It's nothing to wrap both his arms around Lyste's torso, to push him forward so Lyste is on his hands and knees on the bed, eye-to-eye with himself in the mirror. Their eyes meet, and Lyste shivers as he realizes what's coming. The agent cocks an eyebrow, silently asking if it's fine, and Lyste nods giving him a small smirk. 

"I won't break, Kallus." His voice is soft, despite the challenge and the hunger it holds. 

"If you say so," he teases, and _thrusts_. 

The pace he sets is not gentle. It is unrelenting, steady, and Lyste is whining for his release after five minutes. "No," is the only thing Kallus says to that, and Lyste is silent for a few more minutes. Kallus keeps up the pace, but varies the depth. Lyste issued the challenge and now it falls to him to make Lyste fail it. Raised on Coruscant, having been schooled on Coruscant, the ISB agent knows these sex games well. While he's out looking only for a good fuck, Lyste needs something more tonight and trusts him enough to give it to him. He wouldn't have said it otherwise. 

Lyste trusts too easily, but they can have that discussion another time.

A whimper escapes the younger man, and Kallus intercepts Lyste's hand on its way to his cock. "What part of 'no' did you not understand?" He slams himself hard enough into Lyste that he nearly sees stars. Kallus bites back a string of invectives, and reaches between them to tug down on Lyste's sack. It draws a pained groan from the man as it pulls him further from release. "You'll come when I allow it."

"Kallus, _please_!"

"No, Lyste," he responds, and swats his ass with the other hand. He keeps a firm hold on the wrist, and pulls out so he's only fucking the younger man with the tip of his cock. It teases him too, and he has to take a moment to grip the base of his own dick tightly. There's more of a power trip here, in having an Imperial officer at the mercy of his cock, than there ever has been in holding them at the mercy of the law. These are his rules here. Pleasure and release are his to dole out or take away, and because Lyste is too trusting, his life is in Kallus's hands, unaware though he seems to be. If Kallus wished, he could fuck him, kill him, and dispose of every bit of evidence. 

He won't, but he could, and the thought spurs him into a hard thrust in before he returns to teasing the supply officer. 

A full-bodied shudder shakes Lyste, and Kallus moans, meeting his eyes in the mirror again. Lyste looks damn near wrecked. He's absolutely fucked out, in a state of utter bliss, with tears beginning to streak his cheeks. "You look so kriffing gorgeous like this," Kallus murmurs to him, bending over to nip at his ears. "Look at yourself in the mirror, Lyste. See how wrecked you are on my cock?"

Kallus doesn't releases his hand as he bows himself fully over Lyste's back. He wants a different angle now, and he wants to pin Lyste's wrists down. The man needs to know the futility of his situation, how utterly in control Kallus is, and how little of his own he has. Right now, Lyste is looking at them in the mirror, watching Kallus alter their positions again and cover the paler body with his warmer, freckled skin. "You fuck like you were made to take it, Lyste."

That gets him a shiver, and a nod. "You feel so good inside me. When you licked me, I - " Kallus new angle ghosts the underside of his cock right over Lyste's prostate and he cuts off with a drawn out whine of pleasure that makes him tense up around Kallus enough to make the older man swear. " _Kriffing hell_!"

"Such a naughty mouth," Kallus teases before mouthing over his neck. "You liked me eating your ass, didn't you?" Lyste nods against him. "Have you ever had anybody open you up that way? I'll bet you haven't."

"Never," Lyste gasps, and then moans as Kallus rotates his hips in what is apparently the best way. Lyste laces their fingers together. "Oh bloody fuck, do that again."

Kallus obliges him. "I bet I could get you to cum from just my tongue in your hole," he says, voice deep and hungry. It's a very appealing idea right now, though he usually doesn't hang on to any lover for more than one night. He keeps rotating his hips, contemplates asking permission to mark Lyste, but he knows the man is sleeping in barracks the rest of their stay on Coruscant. 

His words draw a needy whimper out of the man. "I want to try."

"You'd be so good for me, wouldn't you, Lyste?" he breathes. "Would you do whatever I asked of you so I'd let you cum with my tongue up your ass?"

Another shuddering breath beneath him prompts Kallus to look back into the mirror. Lyste is a mess now, tears fresh on his face as he lets out a sob. "Yes," he exhales. "Kallus, please, I need - "

"I know what you need," he murmurs, "not yet."

The sob Lyste lets out response goes straight to Kallus's cock, and he's so close. He picks up his pace again, fucking harder and deeper into the younger man. "You're going to cum when I tell you to cum, aren't you?" 

All Lyste can do is nod for him, nod and whimper his name. Kallus's body keeps him immobile, and his hands have Lyste's pinned. "I'm going to cum inside you, and then I'm going to let you cum once I've finished using this pretty hole you have.

"If you can convince me you've earned it."

The litany of pleas Lyste lets out is beautiful, and drives Kallus to fuck into him quickly. If Lyste is able to walk without pain tomorrow, he'll be surprised. Kallus's hips snap a final time, and he spills into the condom, filling his orgasm pulse through him. "Cum for me," he snaps at Lyste. "Cum for me right now."

It's definitely an order, but Lyste has no problem following it. He's been on edge for a long time now, and he keens into the back of Kallus's hands as he cums untouched. Their eyes meet in the mirror as the younger man spills onto his chest and the bedsheets, and tightens around the Kallus through the last of his orgasm.

That might be the hottest thing the agent has ever seen in his life. The lieutenant is kriffing wrecked in the aftermath of it, his face tear-streaked, and bottom lip swollen from worrying at it with his teeth. Kallus catches him before he collapses and rolls them both, so neither of them are in the wet spot. Panting, dazed, they lie together in the afterglow with Kallus's softening cock still inside his companion for the evening. He does pull out after a moment to sit up and pull off the condom. 

Lyste watches him as he goes to pull a vial from his jacket pocket, and pours three drops of it into the rubber before tying it off and coming back to the bed. Kallus waits an entire minute before tilting it, and a small amount of gas is created, inflating it slightly. All of the liquid inside turns green, and then starts to blacken. When the material starts to deteriorate seconds later, he drops it into the trash can, satisfied, and sits back down.

"What was that?" Lyste asks.

"I can't pronounce the name of it for the life of me," Kallus answers. "It's something we're given for undercover missions. It destroys the proteins in DNA."

The eyebrow raise Lyste was giving him made him chuckle. "I'm not supposed to flout fraternization regulations. I'm meant to uphold them." The eyebrow raise turns to shock, but Kallus holds up a hand to encourage him to wait. "Right now I should arrest both of us and recommend to my superiors a dishonorable discharge for us, but the evidence has suddenly vanished. I'm afraid pursuing a case against us is impossible and I'm now forced to drop all charges."

Lyste snorts, but doesn't look concerned anymore. "Convenient."

Kallus gives him a grin that's nothing short of mischievous and stretches back out against him. It's easier to run his fingers through the sticky mess on Lyste's stomach this way and rub it into his skin. "Isn't it?"

"Aren't you supposed to follow the spirit of the law or something?" Lyste sounds much more irritated than he is, easily relaxing into Kallus's touch.

"Those are lawyers," Kallus corrects, and pulls Lyste closer. "ISB agents follow the letter of the law. Those involved with the courts interpret it: that's beyond the scope of my oath."

"Mmm." Lyste falls silent against him. Kallus holds him for several minutes. Cuddling after sex is surprisingly common in the one-night stands he's had with officers: those who serve tend to be touch-starved (the Navy has it the worst, in his experience, as the Army at least spends some time working with hand-to-hand combat training), and this helps with that. Soft breaths ghost over his collarbone and chest, though Lyste is still awake: the younger man is tracing his fingers over Kallus's muscles, exploring his pecks, his abs, examining the freckles that covering Kallus's skin.

When his arm falls asleep, he finally stirs. "I need to get moving," he says with regret. "Refresher?"

A complaining noise greets him. "May I join you?" Lyste asks.

Kallus glances at the chronometer. He has time for another round before he's sorely missed. So long as it's in the 'fresher, he should be fine. "I'd be sorely disappointed if you didn't," he says, and shifts off the bed. A shower with a lover is a rare indulgence, and even if he running a little late, well, a man does change a little as he ages. The ISB can adjust to that, this time.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been contemplating this for a really long time (about 3 weeks straight). I know I _said_ I wasn't going to write anything else until I finished chapter 5 of Waltz, but it turns out that I'm weak and easily inspired/cajoled by friends once plans spill. Autocorrect changed someone's response to me from "pining" to "pinning" in reference to Lyste and Kallus and it snapped my already strained willpower.


End file.
